The Things We Leave Behind
by Semajic
Summary: (Continuation of 'The Big Payback') The group is still recovering from their three year ordeal when Eliot encounters an old acquaintance whose re-emergence brings old -and new- trouble into their lives.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

He crouched and looked to his left and right- sure his assailant was going to jump out from behind any corner, any minute now. He was prepared though. He closed his eyes and let his auditory senses alert him to the direction of the attack. He heard nothing. Maybe he'd met his match.

Then he heard the soft scrape of a shoe heel to his left. He turned to make a grab…

"GOTCHA," he yelled, wrapping his fingers around his assailant's tiny middle. His adversary dissolved instantly into a wriggling, squirming mass of giggles.

"No fair, Cap'in," Joshua complained lightly between his hiccupping laugh.

The little boy writhed and wiggled in Eliot's arms as the Hitter lifted him high.

"Eliot," Sophie's voice made him freeze.

He turned to see the Grifter approaching him purposefully.

"Oh, you're going to wrinkle his jacket," Sophie chided.

Eliot sighed and rolled his eyes, "Let the kid have some fun," his husky voice retorted. "I'm already confused as to why he has to go to that stuffy school anyway. He's three years old."

"Because," Sophie answered as she lowered Joshua and stooped to straighten his clothes, "it's the best rated Nursery system in Boston and it's a feeder program to the best Junior schools and we only want the best for this young man. Don't we?" she touched the tip of the little boy's nose with her finger before she kissed his cheek. He smiled shyly, a rosy blush tinting his face.

He looked up at Eliot self-consciously and Eliot winked conspiratorially.

"Okay, Skip," Eliot addressed the little boy whose clear, blue eyes opened wide, "I guess we should get ready to go huh?"

Joshua nodded his head slowly.

Eliot lightly ruffled the little boy's thick, wavy hair and winked at him playfully.

Joshua smiled and wandered off to find Sophie.

Eliot exhaled contentedly as he watched the little boy shuffle towards his mother.

Happiness. He felt it, or whatever the closest thing to happiness was for someone like him. A smile itched to curl his lips- a genuine, radiating from the inside, smile. Then just as quickly his stomach felt heavy and the hackles on the back of his neck rose.

It never failed. It was as though he was cursed. Whenever he began feeling happiness, true, peaceful happiness, the bottom would fall out. His life would be turned upside down- struck by some overwhelming horror.

The last time he felt joy- true, all-consuming joy, the flip side was nearly his undoing. He was young and in love, he was certain about his place in the world and where his allegiances were, and then the rug was pulled out from beneath him, leaving him forever broken.

Since that time happiness never truly settled with him. Peace was fleeting too, and he never let himself forget.

Lately though he'd had a hard time keeping perspective.

The team was back. They were all alive and safe. It was hard to simply gloss over his elation that their three year ordeal was over and act as though it was business as usual. They were back together; Nate, Sophie, Hardison, and Parker and now Joshua- the little boy he would have given his life to protect, was also a part of the mix. But he felt the nagging reminder that he should never get comfortable, that he should never be at full ease.

A hand on his shoulder tugged him out of his thoughts with a start. He spun to face Nate, who looked as uncomfortable in his suit as his young son.

"She got you too, huh?" Eliot looked at the suit Sophie insisted Nate should wear.

Nate grimaced and Eliot suppressed a laugh.

"The kid is three; there shouldn't even be suits his size in existence," Nate huffed and Eliot smiled.

"She means well," Eliot offered and Nate smiled slowly in spite of himself.

"Yeah, I know," Nate looked over to his new wife and the handsome little boy whose hair she was smoothing out, "It's just…"

"Different," Eliot finished and Nate nodded slowly, "yeah I know."

The two men fell into comfortable silence until a knock at the door called their attention.

Eliot tensed immediately- a matter of habit at this point.

Sophie peered through the peep-hole before she turned back to Nate and Eliot and waved her hand to reassure them as she opened the door.

"Little dude," Hardison's infectiously buoyant voice entered the room before he or Parker did.

Joshua smiled and ran towards the pair as they entered. He giggled as he was lifted into the air by Hardison, a gently smiling Parker a step behind them.

"Hi Parker," Sophie called softly as she reached to touch Parker, but she stopped herself.

They were back. They were all safe and alive but it was different. They were different.

"How's she doing," Eliot inquired softly when Hardison finally reached them. The three men turned to look discreetly at Parker as she and Sophie engaged in an uneasily casual conversation. It was almost painful to look on as they smiled at each other with anxious politeness. They were once as close as sisters. In that moment they chatted as barely sociable strangers.

Hardison sighed. "It's been five months," he began, "She's still getting maybe three hours of sleep every night, she's still waking up shaking, she's still checking the moulding for bugs every night….she's still afraid she's going to zone out and snap my neck or something."

Eliot expelled a slow breath. "Give it time, man," he encouraged softly, "we all have to give it time."

He looked pointedly at Hardison and could see the tension in his friend's shoulders. "And how are you doing?" He nodded to indicate toward Hardison's chest but the Hacker didn't have to follow his gaze to know what Eliot was referred to.

Hardison absently touched his chest, "I feel good." He took a deep breath as if to emphasize his healing, "the stitches still itch like hell sometimes and I still get a quick reminder if I overdo it with the stretching or working out, but I feel good."

Nate patted Hardison's back, "I'll say it again, it's just good that you're here."

"It's good that we're all here," Hardison corrected.

The three once again fell into an easy silence, all looking out the window.

"Has there been any word from Sterling," Eliot asked quietly, giving voice to the shapeless, niggling thought they were all trying to quell.

"I spoke to him a few days ago," Nate responded softly, leaning in so the other men could hear him clearly, "…still nothing concrete."

Eliot's brows furrowed at Nate's conspiratorial action.

"Soph made me promise no shop talk today," Nate answered the non-verbal question.

"And if I had bet you, I'd be getting my money right about now," Sophie called from across the room.

Nate cleared his throat and undid the top button on his shirt guiltily. Eliot and Hardison swallowed their laughter.

"It's time to leave," Sophie announced as she reached for Joshua's coat.

Nate scooped his nearly four year old son away from the blocks he'd been stacking and propped the playfully squirming boy against his chest as he walked over to Sophie.

Hardison walked back over to Parker and stood at her side. He gently bumped her upper arm with his and offered her a little smile. She smiled back. She understood that he was just 'checking in' and it made her feel safe. He wondered if the others noticed that she hadn't moved more than twenty steps into the house. It was another side effect of her PTSD; a new one that he'd only recently discovered. There were some places she wouldn't venture to far in to. Nate and Sophie's house was one of those places.

Eliot noticed it too.

He noticed that while Parker made sure she stayed close to the door in some places, Hardison never let her out of his sight and he was never more than twenty steps away from her.

He noticed too, that Sophie fussed and fixed and fought to make _everything_ clean and perfect- all the time. And Nate no longer drank. Nate drank water and coffee- lots of coffee. And that was it. He was antsy too and not all of it was because of the caffeine.

It was odd. They were back but they were shadowed, shelled-out versions of themselves.

They were alive and safe…but different.

"Ready Cap'n?" Joshua's question tore Eliot out of his distant thoughts. The little boy's outstretched hand reached for him.

Eliot smiled down and took the boy's hand.

"I'm ready," he answered as he led them through the house, leaving the others behind. "But," he stooped so he and child were eye level, "are you ready for your first day of school?"

Joshua looked up earnestly and shook his head, _no_.

"Well, I'll tell you what, I think you're going to really love it at that school," he looked into Joshua's eyes with the utmost sincerity, "You're already the coolest kid I know. It's only a matter of time before you're the coolest kid there too."

Joshua smiled and Eliot ruffled his hair.

"Eliot," Sophie chastised, instantly pulling out her comb to smooth the little boy's unruly waves.

Eliot raised his hands in mock surrender and turned away to go ahead of the others on the three block walk to Joshua's new school.

He surveyed the parked cars as he went and peered into every doorway and alley.

It was something he noticed about himself. He had always been cautious but his wariness about his surroundings had escalated to the point that he didn't sleep or eat in peace. The others didn't know. They didn't need to know. He was the protector. It was his job to make sure they were safe.

He failed them once and it cost them three years of their lives.

There would not be a next time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Eliot stood beside Hardison and Parker just inside the gate of The Academy Nouveau. They looked on as Nate and Sophie said goodbye to Joshua and urged him to go with the teacher.

Eliot understood the boy's apprehension. He had been through so much change in his short life. He was slowly getting use to the idea that Nate and Sophie were his parents, and he'd just finally stopped asking about Sonya and Caesar. The idea of more strangers in his life outside of the small circle of the five trusted people he'd just come to accept would be a challenge.

Eliot watched as Joshua's head hung low in begrudged acceptance and he allowed the teacher to take his hand to lead him into the building. The little boy turned once more as he crossed over the threshold but his gaze sought and found Eliot's.

The grizzled Hitter offered the boy and nod and a small smile and when Joshua turned back to his teacher he gave her his full attention.

They had a very special bond that went far beyond familial connection.

Eliot was the first person Joshua found he could trust consistently and although Nate and Sophie had showered him with as much love as they could have crammed into five months, Joshua's eyes somehow always sought Eliot's for reassurance.

Sophie and Nate approached the rest of the gang at the gate. Their little group looked strange amid the gaggle of tearful, smiling, picture-taking families sending their children off to school for the first time but they were undisputedly a family. Eliot marvelled at the simple wonder of the moment and how very far they'd come.

"This feels like a Kodak moment," Hardison laughed into the awkward silence. They laughed with him.

They'd all been thinking about how odd it felt to have survived the last three years and the five before that to get to the point where they were standing in a school yard together for the simple reason that they wouldn't want to be anywhere else with anyone else.

"It kinda does," Eliot concluded.

"Does anyone have a camera," Sophie asked innocently.

They all stopped laughing and looked at her.

It was an unwritten rule that people in their line of work never willingly took photographs of their non-work lives. And they especially didn't take photographs with their accomplices. It was too much of a risk, too easy to be found, too easy for someone to infiltrate the part of life that was sacred.

But then they wondered if that way of thinking still applied to them. After all they'd been through- and together on top of it, was there anyone who didn't know who they were, what they did, or what they meant to each other? And, besides, they were done with all of that- weren't they?

"I have something," Hardison offered.

Eliot rolled his eyes, "Of course you would."

Sophie smiled as Hardison reached into his coat for a device the full size of a thumb.

"Shall we get someone to snap it for us then," she asked cheerily as she looked around.

"No need," Hardison responded, "it has a timer and it's programmed to assess the subject for optimal readiness."

Nate shook his head, once again in awe of what the Hacker comes up with, "Of course it is."

"Okay all get together now," Sophie ushered them in a cosily tight semi-circle around the camera that Hardison perched on the low wall of the school.

They all peered straight ahead and Hardison whispered, '_Ready'_, just before he knew the timer would run out and the camera would flash.

It didn't flash though and they remained frozen for a few uneasy seconds before Nate broke their pose, "Did it go off already?"

"No," Hardison answered quickly. He already knew why the camera wasn't working. Parker was a rigid as a board beside him and he knew she'd been trying to best angle her face to avoid her image being taken.

He turned to her, "It's okay," he reassured softly and stroked her side gently. She nodded and offered him a small smile, "I know. It's okay."

"Okay, one more time," Sophie cajoled, and they all squeezed close to each other again, all looking straight ahead.

But then… a random gust of wind…the common shimmer of light as the sun hit a reflecting surface...the ordinary lift and spin of a wisp of extraordinary Strawberry blonde hair. Eliot's attention caught and held.

He froze.

He'd seen that colour hair before. He touched it. He dreamt about it…time and time again.

_His fingers would trace the line of her lips. She would smile and nibble them playfully. Heat would radiate through him. Her long Strawberry blonde hair would spill over his hand and curl around his arm as he caressed the back of her head, easing it back to allow him access to her neck... _

He would never forget her face, or her name. _Kennedy._

And there it was, her face…in miniature, down to the freckles that draped her nose.

Eliot straightened up and out of the posing embrace of his friends. He walked over to the little girl and the man holding her hand.

He approached them in time to hear the man call, "Have fun, Bella," as the little girl waved him off and walked quickly through the school door.

"Is she yours," Eliot smiled and tried to sound nonchalant.

The man smiled back, wary but polite, "She's my niece."

Eliot nodded his head silently and struggled to find the finesse he needed to get the answers without rousing the man's suspicion.

"They're really independent at that age, aren't they?" he finally got out.

The man nodded politely.

"I'm guessing she has to be seeing that she's an orphan," Eliot fished hoping his line of questioning would yield results.

The man spun around to look at Eliot in mild annoyance.

"She's not an orphan," he answered before walking without another word.

"Sorry man," Eliot offered half-heartedly. He'd gotten what he wanted. There were parents. His gut clenched.

"Everything alright man," Hardison came up behind him.

Eliot watched as the man walk down the street, "I'm cool."

He turned after a pensive moment and tried to put some levity in his voice, "I'm good man. What do you say we go get some coffee?"

Hardison paused for a moment unsure how to proceed. Then he simply shrugged and indicated for Eliot to lead the way. They walked to Nate and Sophie as the couple spoke with a teacher and Hardison slipped his hand into Parker's.

They were among the last of the families to leave the yard and when they did, they went to a small outdoor café close to Nate and Sophie's house. The couple didn't stay however. They took their order to go and thanked the others for coming to see Joshua off on his first day. They all said their goodbyes and Nate and Sophie left.

Eliot, Hardison and Parker sat outside and enjoyed their drinks in the beautiful early afternoon sunshine. More than once Eliot noticed that Parker would close her eyes and let the brilliant warmth blanket her face. He didn't want to stare at her but it was as though the old carefree, quirky Parker was trying to come back.

They sat at the café for nearly an hour and as simple as it was the small act felt like a victory; a tiny step toward reclaiming the normalcy of their lives.

Eliot should have known it wouldn't last.

They left the café and after saying their goodbyes, they went their separate ways.

Eliot took the long way home. He let the day's events wash over him.

And somewhere along the route it occurred to him that he was being crazy. The little girl wasn't Kennedy's kid. He'd seen that shade of blonde a million times. He must have just gotten caught up in the moment, what with Joshua starting school and all.

That was it.

-He was almost 100% convinced.

He wanted it to mean nothing so badly, to have just a little more time with no tumult in his life.

It must have been the reason he didn't notice the black European car, with the illegally dark tint that had been following him for the better part of twenty minutes as he walked up his walkway.

It must have also been the reason he didn't notice the speck of dried mud that dusted the far corner of his patio, gathered in the tiny crescent shape of a woman's high-heeled shoe.

Eliot had no sooner crossed over his threshold before he found himself face to face with the deadly, gaping mouth of a gun.

He couldn't even muster surprise. It never failed. Happiness and contentment were not his friends, more like the calling card for additional misery.

"Hello Kennedy," he finally offered as he nonchalantly closed the door behind him.

"She's off limits Eliot," the very pale, and very brunet woman announced, "don't look at her, don't ask questions, she doesn't exist as far as you're concerned."

"I really have no interest in investigating the girl," Eliot announced, "I saw her and… she looks so much like you…"

"Off…Limits," the woman stressed and she strained the gun toward him.

"I just have one question," Eliot began and pressed on before Kennedy could rebuff him, "Is she mine?"

Kennedy stopped cold.

"No," she answered finally.

"Moreau's," he said more as a statement than a question.

Kennedy angled the gun again. It was as much of a confirmation as if she'd simply told him yes.

"Just stay away from her, Eliot. Her life is quiet and safe. There's too much heat around you. Any attention you give her and people start making connections," Kennedy's face softened and she almost sounded as though she was pleading with him. "Just…stay away…please."

Eliot studied her silently for a moment before he answered, "Okay."

Kennedy nodded and made a wide circle around him as she moved toward the door, never taking her eyes off of her target or lowering her gun.

"I'm not the threat, Kennedy," he announced coolly, "He's going to find out sooner or later. And when he does you're not going to be able to keep her from him with that little gun."

She grasped the door's handle and pulled, "We've been just fine so…"

It happened slowly. The black European car with the illegally dark tint ignited like an enormous Roman candle. The instant white-bright light from the explosion dazed her vision, the heat singed the skin on her face, flung open the door as it jerked violently wide, pelted her back into the house about twenty feet to a hard stop against the wall.

The blowback stole the end of her sentence and the breath from her lungs.

It blew out Eliot's windows, sending shattered glass screaming wildly through his living room. The only thing that saved him was his position behind a wall.

When he had a moment to realize that it was a car that exploded and they weren't under an immediate threat, he ran over to her, picking up her gun along the way and resting it at her side.

"Are you okay," he asked urgently.

"I'm…yes…" she blinked against the temporary blindness and attempted to sit up.

"Well," Eliot began, helping her to a sitting position, "I think it's safe to say, he's found you."


End file.
